


it's only just a crush (or maybe this is danger)

by jadrian



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Legend (2015)
Genre: Drinking, Eggsy goes undercover, Fist Fights, Flirting, M/M, Pretending to be someone else, Spies & Secret Agents, au where the events of kingsman take place in like the 50s, but make it sexy, eggsy is so ooc im sorry im sorry, set in the 60s, tagged it mature bc they talk about sex and there's a fight but no sex actually happens.. sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadrian/pseuds/jadrian
Summary: “Teddy Smith,” drawls Ron, stretching the name across his lips, tasting the vowels on his tongue. “Teddy Smith. Can I buy you a drink, Teddy Smith?”Eggsy goes undercover to try and take down the Krays but gets a lot more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Ronald "Ronnie" Kray/"Mad" Teddy Smith, Ronald "Ronnie" Kray/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 37
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is acc such a mess and not even beta’d i wrote this for vince and vince only im sorry to anyone who finds this
> 
> if u are here... enjoy!!
> 
> title from tear you apart by she wants revenge

Eggsy doesn’t usually feel nervous on missions, but on this one, he’s practically pissing himself. His finely tailored suit had, a few minutes back, suddenly begun to feel cheap and itchy, and the gin he had ordered to settle his nerves was doing nothing more for him than a pint of lemonade. He tries desperately to keep his eyes from darting around the room, not wanting to look like he’s up to something.

He’s waiting for a specific man to walk through the door, a man who Harry had pointed out to him a million times. This is the man who would get him in with the Krays, introduce him to the business and help him forge connections. He is the key to the whole operation.

And the bastard is fucking  _ late. _

Gangsters have no sense of time, apparently. Or maybe their contact had been found out, and is currently taking a tour of London face down in the Thames. Either way, Eggsy is bored and tired and pissed off. 

Then someone sits down next to him, knocking him so abruptly out of his thoughts that his brain stumbles to catch itself. 

“You are new,” says the man next to him. He speaks matter-of-factly, no air of suspicion in his tone. Simply just commenting on Eggsy’s presence.

Readying himself to make some half-assed excuse, not wanting to be distracted from his mission, Eggsy turns to look at the man next to him. And - 

Oh fucking God.

_ Shit. _

_ Ronnie fucking Kray. _

“I said,” Ronnie speaks again, apparently confused by Eggsy’s silence. “You are new. Ain’tcha?”

Eggsy swallows. This is not in the fucking guidebook. For all of Harry’s careful planning and tutoring, he hadn’t prepared Eggsy for this. Ron Kray wasn’t even meant to be in the club tonight, for fuck’s sake! But Eggsy knows he can’t cock it up now. He mentally takes a few deep breaths to psych himself up, and then;

“Yeah. I guess you could say that.” He speaks casually, his natural accent familiar on his tongue. He's so used to using some shitty posh accent to try and fit in with the high-class subjects of his various missions, but it feels good to be able to speak like himself again.

Ronnie doesn’t smile, but Eggsy can see that something deep in the back of his eyes does. Ron leans in. Lowers his voice. “What’s your name, then?”

“Teddy,” Eggsy murmurs. The name he and Harry agreed upon last night. “Teddy Smith.”

“Teddy Smith,” drawls Ron, stretching the name across his lips, tasting the vowels on his tongue. “Teddy Smith. Can I buy you a drink, Teddy Smith?”

Eggsy smiles. Flirtatiously, he hopes. It’s been a long time since he’s done anything like this, far longer since he’d done anything like this with a  _ man.  _ He’s not an idiot, he knows what Ronnie Kray is like, what he’ll be after. Harry drilled it into his head enough times. 

_ When you do eventually come across him, which shouldn’t be for a while, _ Harry had said,  _ you steer clear, you hear me? You’re just his type. Wouldn’t want you to have to get tangled up in a mess like that. _

Bit too late for that, Eggsy thinks to himself. Now he’s here, he might as well take advantage of the situation. Adapt and survive, like Harry always says. Ronnie Kray wants to buy him a drink? Well, Eggsy’s not about to turn down an opportunity like that.

Grinning wider, Eggsy replies, “You can buy me all the drinks you want, darlin’, as long as you tell me who’s buyin’ ‘em,”  _ Play dumb, _ he tells himself.  _ You’re just some kid off the street who knows nuffin’ about the Krays but a couple of fairy stories. _

“Are you tellin’ me,” Ron says, slowly (he seems to say most things slowly, Eggsy notices), “That you have come to my club, not knowin’ who owns it?”

Eggsy shuffles in closer. He’s interested, intrigued. “This is your club? You own the place?”

Ron nods, proud of himself. “Me and my brother, yeah...”

“Huh. Your offer to buy me a drink seems a bit cheaper now,” Eggsy smiles again. Cheeky. Daring.

Ron’s face doesn’t move and Eggsy begins to wonder if he went too far. Then Ron murmurs, “Do you know who I am, Teddy Smith?”

Teddy, wide-eyed and confused. Eggsy, sweating internally and praying to all the gods he doesn’t believe in. “No?”

“No… you don’t do you? Else you wouldn’t have had the balls to say that,” he pauses. “My name is Ron Kray. My brother is Reggie. Have you heard of us, Teddy Smith?”

Eggsy nods wordlessly, hoping his lack of speech is put down to awe. Ron seems satisfied.

“Yeah… yeah…” he mutters, his eyes locked on Eggsy’s.

“Why…” Eggsy has to pick his words carefully. “Why’re you ‘ere, then? Talkin‘ to me? You got the whole club at your feet, ain’t you…” he considers. He decides to risk it. “...Ron?”

Again, Ron Kray doesn’t react. Not a single muscle on his face moves, not a twitch. And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, he bursts into laughter. Loud, honest laughter that draws the attention of half the club (although when they realise who it is that’s causing the disturbance, they quickly look away). Eggsy joins in, all the nerves of the past few minutes being released in a few short bursts.

“You,” says Ron, pointing a thick, ringed finger in Eggsy’s direction. “Are a cheeky fucking tart, Teddy Smith. You!” he calls out to a passing waiter. “Two whiskeys, neat. And make it the fuckin’ good stuff, you understand?” 

  
  


Soon Ron is ordering drinks faster than they can knock them back, and it’s not like Eggsy can say  _ no, _ not when this is probably his one opportunity to get in with the Krays. He hears Harry in the back of his head, telling him off, saying that drinking on a mission is the worst possible idea and what is he thinking and what happened to maintaining a clear head on the job, but Ron’s voice next to him, low and rough and insistent, is far more real and persuasive. Harry’s voice seems to fade away, deafened by the rush of blood in Eggsy’s ears and the burn of the alcohol as it goes down his throat. 

Eggsy can hold his liquor, he’s not a fucking teenager, but he plays it up for Ron, acts drunker than he really is. It’s been barely an hour since they met and Eggsy’s practically already in the other man’s lap, one hand playing with Ron’s tie while Ron wraps his own hand around one of Eggsy’s thighs. The warm flesh clashes with the cool rings against Eggsy’s leg, digging into his skin, and he manages a stupid little giggle whenever Ron gives him a squeeze.

He doesn’t even feel drunk. He just feels giddy, naturally riding on the high that comes with the status and power that Ronnie Kray exudes. No matter how loud the two of them get, no matter how overtly they touch each other, no one in that club can say a fuckin’ thing or they’ll end up with Ron’s name printed into the side of their skull. 

For once in his life, Eggsy feels wholly untouchable, and the realisation sends a shiver through his body.

“You feelin’ cold, Teddy Smith?” asks Ron, pulling Eggsy closer to him. “You need me to warm you up?”

Eggsy just laughs, loudly and freely, and he’s so exhilarated that he barely notices when someone approaches the table. Then he blinks. Clears his head.

_ Double oh fucking god. _

The other brother. Reggie. The one in charge, Eggsy knows. The brains. He needs to be smart. He needs to think. He can’t mess this up now, not when he’s made such headway with Ronnie, but… 

But Reg completely ignores him. Doesn’t even acknowledge his existence. Just speaks to his brother like he hasn’t got a tipsy twenty-four-year-old man wrapped around him.

“We got a bit of a problem, Ron,” says Reg. He looks… not nervous, but something close.

Ronnie doesn’t seem to give a toss. “Yeah, well I’m a bit busy now, Reg, ain’t I? So maybe come back at a later fucking date. Book a meeting with my secretary.”

“You ain't got a secretary, Ron,”

Ron just grunts. Eggsy chuckles quietly, and Reggie looks at him for the first time, up and down. Taking him in. Eggsy stands his ground (as well as he can, sitting down) and stares Reg dead in the eye.

Then Reg speaks to him. “You any good with your fists, mate?”

Eggsy smiles for what feels like the billionth time that night. His cheeks are practically aching. “Fuckin’ fantastic.”

“Well then, you can bring your… friend… along, Ron. It’s a matter of honour. Some tosser owes us money, tryin’ to get in our fuckin’ club for a few pints. He’s outside. Not taking no for an answer. And I seem to remember you asking me to… forward matters like this to you.”

Ronnie seems to have perked up. “You want me to teach him not to mess with us, yeah, Reg?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Reggie's face is more warm and open now that Ron has agreed to help him out. “You take your boy along, show off a little, if you want.” 

With that, Reggie spins around and walks back into the inner folds of the club. Ron turns to look at Eggsy. “You wanna come and watch me beat the shit out of someone, Teddy Smith?”

Eggsy’s past calculating. He just goes with his gut, lets the words spill out of him automatically. “Only if I can help.”

  
  


Outside, Ronnie and Eggsy’s unsuspecting victim is engaged in an argument with the doorman that doesn’t seem to be lulling any time soon. The man is drunk, clearly, his face red and his eyes wide, making gestures far too wild for any sober man. He looks, to put it bluntly, like a fucking mess. Ron looks at him in disdain. 

“Look at that sorry cunt,” he breathes in Eggsy’s ear, sending another shiver down Eggsy’s spine. “You think you could take him by yourself?”

Eggsy doesn’t look away from the man at the door. “I think,” he replies. “That when I’m done with him, he’s going to be living in a hospital bed for the better part of his life.” 

The words tumble out of their own accord. He isn’t a violent person, Eggsy liked to think; he’s been in his fair share of fights, sure, and more often than not, come out on top. But he doesn’t go  _ looking _ for fights, not usually. Never more than a couple of times, nothing serious, just to let off some steam. But something about the combination of the whiskey more expensive than he’s ever tasted and the presence of Ronnie behind him, warm and firm and oh so intoxicating, makes him almost crave the fight that is seconds from occurring. 

His fists tense in anticipation.

“Hey, mate, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” says Eggsy, walking out of the open doorway. He can feel Ron’s eyes burning into his back, calculating. He may not be as smart as his brother, but Eggsy can sense that Ron’s got a lot more brains than he lets on. He can tell that this is a test, of sorts. If he passes, he's in. Harry can’t fault him for doing what he has to do in this situation.

Besides, what Harry doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

The man halts in his drunken ranting and swings around to look at Eggsy. “Who’e’fuck’re’oo?” he slurs. “Get oudda m’fuckin way.” He starts to walk towards Eggsy.

“Well, I did ask ya nicely,” shrugged Eggsy.

He feels the man’s nose break as he smashes his fist into it, closed tight in the boxing position he learned from his mates growing up. The man hits the floor immediately, blood coursing from his nose like a strange tropical waterfall. Eggsy wrinkles his own nose in annoyance. 

“You’re not done that fuckin’ easily, are you? Oi!” Eggsy shouts. He kicks the man in the side, hard. The man curls up in an attempt to protect himself.

Eggsy bends down and grabs him by the collar. Years of living rough and fighting with his stepdad and training for Kingsman have made him stronger than he realises, and he ends up pulling the man half to his feet.

He punches him in the face again. And again.

“You fuckin’ bastard, you think it’s a good fuckin’ idea to cross the Krays? Huh?” Another punch. “Next time you steal from ‘em, I won’t be so fuckin’ forgiving, you hear me?” Eggsy throws the man to the floor. 

“Thank god for the NHS, hey?” he grins wildly. 

He was careful. The man won’t suffer any permanent damage, but he looks fucked up enough for Ronnie to let him go. The man is still lying on the floor, not moving. Eggsy just hopes he’s passed the test.

He’s panting hard and one of the sleeves of his suit is ripped. No one says anything.

Suddenly Ronnie’s at Eggsy’s side, grabbing his right arm hard enough to leave a bruise. “I am going to call my car now, and I am going to take you back to my flat and do you so hard you fucking  _ cry. _ You understand?”

“That a promise, Ronnie?” Eggsy murmurs, his lips and his suit and his knuckles covered in another man’s blood. He feels lightheaded, but he’s thinking more clearly than he ever has.

Looks like he passed the test.

With flying fucking colours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might continue this at some point if i feel so inclined
> 
> please leave kudos and a comment i am once again begging for validation
> 
> follow me on twitter if u like gay people and movies @/yeehawkeanu


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of eggsy's night in the club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay everyone wanted more so ... here :)
> 
> its not much but it's something and it will hopefully lead to a lot more ..

Eggsy wakes up at noon the next morning, head pounding like he’s been slamming it against a wall, and the rest of his body not much better off. His mouth is dry and his knuckles hurt and he can barely squint against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, but he feels more satisfied than he ever has in his life. 

Because the reason his body is such a  _ wreck, _ the reason he slept like a goddamn baby last night, is lying asleep next to him.  _ Ronnie Kray. _ Fuck, if that doesn’t give him the shivers just thinking about it.

He climbs out of bed cautiously, not wanting to do anything to disturb Ron. He figures Ron wouldn’t mind too much if he woke him up, seeing as he let Eggsy stay the night and all, but better safe than sorry.

Although, he hadn’t expected to stay the night in the first place. That, in itself, was a complete miracle. Eggsy had expected to be unceremoniously fucked before being tossed out the flat with his trousers still hanging around his ankles, but Ron had been surprisingly… affectionate, in his own gruff way. After they had both finished, Ron had muttered a quick, “ _ You better hope for your own sake that you do not fuckin’ snore”, _ before immediately turning over on his side to sleep. After Eggsy had sat in silence for a minute or so, processing the man’s words, Ronnie barked,  _ “Well? Are you going to stare at the fuckin’ ceiling all night? Go to sleep, you silly cunt” _ and that was the end of it. Ron’s voice was barely audible, his face being pressed against his pillow and all, but Eggsy got the message. 

Ron had let him  _ stay. _ In his own  _ home. _ Eggsy knew enough from Harry’s extensive briefing that this was not something Ronnie made a habit of. 

So, no. He wouldn’t wake Ron up, not if he could help it. He creeps around the bedroom, trying to pick up the pieces of Teddy Smith that were scattered there last night. His shirt, balled up and flung in a corner. His trousers, somehow folded neatly on the dresser. His suit jacket, hanging on the side of a chair. Slowly, slowly, he puts himself back together again.

Eggsy’s just tying his tie when he notices Ron stirring. When he speaks, his voice is gravely and heavy with sleep. “You’re still ‘ere, then?”

“‘Course I am,” replies Eggsy, doing his best to give a winning smile as he pulls his jacket over his shoulders. “I hope you ain’t expecting me to make breakfast or nuffin’. I burn toast on me best days.”

Ronnie doesn’t break eye contact. “I am not expecting anything. Get the fuck out of my flat, Teddy Smith.” But he doesn’t look angry, not really. There’s a faint grin on Ron’s face as he watches Eggsy leave. 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm going,” Eggsy says. He pauses at the door, turns back slightly. “I left my number on the side. Gimme a call, yeah, Ronnie?” He’s pushing his luck here, he knows, but the smirk on his face is enough to convince a nun to pack up her bags and renounce God Himself.

Ron buys it. He lets out a bark of laughter so abrupt that it seems to shake the bed he lies in. “You’re a cheeky fuckin’ tart, you are. And close the door on your way out.”

All in all, not the worst start to walk of shame that Eggsy’s ever had. And certainly one of the more successful starts to a mission. Blimey, won’t Harry be pleased!

  
  


Harry is  _ not _ pleased. Despite the, um,  _ abridged _ version Eggsy decides to provide, it’s clear that absolutely nothing went to plan. And sticking to plans is something that is  _ very _ important to Harry.

“What the  _ fuck _ do you mean, he didn’t show up!?” Harry shouted.

“I mean, the bastard didn’t show up! I had to handle it myself!” replies Eggsy, arms crossed. He really can’t be bothered to deal with an interrogation right now. He barely had time to pop home for a quick wash and change before he was due to show up to the headquarters with a report. Various bruises that he is hiding under his suit are starting to rub, and he wants nothing more than to go home and pass out for the next few days.

Harry isn’t having it.

“Dear God,” says Harry, staring at Eggsy over the top of his glasses. “What, exactly, does  _ handling it _ entail?”

Eggsy scoffs. “You should have more faith in me, mate. I didn’t do anything fuckin’ drastic, I just got chatting with a couple’a fellas I recognised from your files. Better place to start than any, I say.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, as if he doesn’t quite believe what Eggsy is saying. Well,  _ yeah, _ Eggsy’s chatting complete shit, but Harry has no reason to know that. He should trust him. He’s a Kingsman agent, after all. A distinguished gentleman who knows how to act appropriately when a plan fails. The kind of man who would  _ not _ go home with one of the biggest gangsters in the country after beating up some poor sod in an alleyway. And  _ definitely _ not the kind of man who would get off on that sort of thing.

“Look,” explains Eggsy. “I bought a round for a couple of blokes, said I was celebrating payday. They seemed to like me, we had a chat, they invited me for drinks in a couple'a days. Okay? Totally subtle, mate. They wouldn’t have known me from any other guy in there, yeah?”

He doesn’t need to tell Harry about Ron, no fuckin’ way. He would take it the wrong way, wouldn’t he? Think it was  _ unprofessional. _ Well, who the hell cares about professionalism, Eggsy thinks, if it gets the job done? It’s not like anyone’s getting hurt.

Not  _ seriously, _ anyway.

Besides, anyone would be an absolute idiot to pass up an opportunity like this. A chance to be in the Kray’s inner circle. Fuckin’ hell, he was inside  _ Ronnie Kray’s flat _ last night. How many people who’ve worked on this case have the privilege of saying that? Slim to none, Eggsy would bet.

Getting privileged inside knowledge of the firm, getting to understand their thoughts and motivations, and getting shagged to high heavens by Ronnie Kray every so often. Win-win situation, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so the deal is i have loads of ideas but no real plot/idea of how to continue directly on from this chapter... so if anyone has any ideas please sling them my way!!
> 
> please please leave kudos and a comment it literally makes my day 
> 
> my twt is @/yeehawkeanu


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feat. my terrible use of contractions to try and capture an accent.... sorry to all english people

Ronnie didn’t call.

It’s not like Eggsy had expected him to, not really. He knows that Ron isn’t the romantic type. But some small part of him was at least  _ hoping _ that he would pick up the phone to hear Ronnie on the other end.

But no. Nothing.

The one call he  _ did _ get was Harry checking in on him, making sure he was on task and all that. Eggsy told him that he would be heading to the club that very evening. Then he realised that saying that meant that he actually had to go to the club that very evening.

So he’s back in the club again. Alone, again. Desperately hoping that Ron will show up out of nowhere and drag him off into some dark corner, just so he doesn’t have to deal with the pressures of having to strike up a conversation. The club seems even larger than it did the first time, and yet impossibly suffocating, its dark walls bearing down on him. 

Then a familiar hand clamps down on his shoulder and Eggsy almost lets out an audible sigh of relief. He turns, a stupid flirtatious remark dangling expectantly from lips, but his words quickly fade away. 

_ Shit. _ It’s not Ron. Instead, Eggsy is greeted by the glaringly fake smile of Reggie Kray.

_ Still, Reg is better than nothing, _ Eggsy thinks. Better than sitting alone with a drink and the thought of Harry’s reaction when he reports back. Reginald Kray. He can work with that.

“Teddy, ain’t it?”

Breathe. “Yeah.”

Reg sits down on the seat next to Eggsy. “You handled that situation well the other day.”

Eggsy blinks. What do you even say to that? He left a man broken and bloody on the side of the road and barely thought twice about it, and here Reggie is, congratulating him. “Thanks,” he says. 

Reg stares at him. He and Ron are similar like that, Eggsy thinks. The way their eyes seem to burrow somewhere deep inside you. With Ron, it’s unnerving. With Reg, it’s downright scary. 

“You lookin’ for a job, Teddy?”

And Eggsy suddenly feels like he can breathe again. The tight grip of the club’s walls eases up, and that feeling of confidence he usually embodies on missions floods back into him. A job offer. From a  _ Kray. _ Barely a  _ week _ into the mission. 

Fuckin’ hell, they should give him a promotion over at Kingsman. 

But when he speaks, he’s casual. Hiding his excitement. “Yeah, suppose.” He feels that characteristic smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth automatically.

“We’ve got plenty’ve fuckin’ men, but…” Reg pauses. “Ronnie needs someone to… keep an eye on him, y’understand? He likes you, from what I’ve gathered. Won’t stop bloody talking about you.”

“Ronnie was talkin’ about me?” Eggsy smiles. A small part of him can’t help but feel a bit, well.  _ Warm, _ at that. Ron was  _ thinking _ about him. ( _ Ronnie fuckin’ Kray, _ he tries to remind himself.  _ Don’t forget the part where he’s Ronnie Fucking Kray _ ).

Reg ignores him. He’s avoiding eye contact, Eggsy can tell. “We need a man for a job tomorrow. Not a big fuckin’ deal, just meant’a be a business meeting. But I got a feeling they might try somethin’.”

“I mean, sure, Reg, but… if you’ve got all these men, what’re you doin’ with me?” Eggsy asks. “I’m just that fuckin’ good, eh?”

“No offence, mate,” Reg says, the word  _ mate _ sounding like it was almost forced out of him, “but you, you look like one of those… fuckin’  _ pretty boys. _ Ain’t nobody gonna be scared of ya.”

Eggsy looks up sharply. “Yet,” he says. He catches Reg’s eye and holds his stare.

Again, that stare. Eggsy feels like Reg is analysing every little thing about him. 

“Yet.” Reg agrees, after what feels like an eternity. Then, abruptly, “Tomorrow at nine at the Red Bull. Don’t be fuckin’ late.” And with that, he turns and walks away.

Eggsy barely has time to  _ breathe  _ before he hears an “Oi!” from the other end of the bar. 

“Ain’t seen you 'round ‘ere before,” It’s a man, older than Eggsy, who looks like he’s seen his fair share of punch-ups in his life. He’s sitting next to another man, dark-haired, who looks like he’s seen his fair share of empty beer glasses. “You workin’ for Reg, then?”

God, Eggsy’s exhausted by his conversation with Reggie. He can barely find the energy to turn his body to face the two men. “Yeah, I guess I am now. Teddy Smith.” He nods his head in their direction.

“Call me Alby.”

The guy next to Alby speaks up, his words slow and slightly slurred. “Ain’t you the bloke who beat up that cunt outside th’other day?”

“Yep.” Eggsy smiles, trying to look pleased with himself. 

“That means you’re Ronnie’s boy, ain’t’cha?” Alby asks with a grin. Word travels fast, apparently.

Eggsy’s face hardens. Surely they can’t say shit, not with the threat of a man like Ron hanging over them. He goes with his gut. “So what if I fuckin’ am, eh? You got something to say?”

Alby and his friend look uncomfortable at the sudden change in atmosphere. The club suddenly feels a whole lot colder.

“It don’t mean anythin’ to us, does it, mate?” Alby insists, his friend nodding his head in enthusiastic agreement. 

Eggsy just raises an eyebrow.  _ Not fuckin’ scary, that’s what Reginald Kray says, _ Eggsy smiles to himself.  _ He doesn’t know shit. _

Alby brushes his hair out of his eyes and laughs nervously. “Buy you a drink, mate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back !! sorry for the wait y'all.. this is just a lil chapter to prepare for the next one, which will be up tomorrow. i wanted to get smth out as fast as possible so here u are! tune in next time for more sexy fighting xoxo 
> 
> thank u sm for reading, pls leave kudos and a comment if u wanna see more!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> massive thank u to da bestie caitie for helping me w this chapter <3

The Red Bull doesn’t seem to be anything much. It’s modest, small, tucked away down a side street, with a sturdy wooden door and some simple stained glass windows. Not a bad place for a punchup - worse comes to worst, they can make a dash for it down the alley. 

Eggsy’s waiting outside when Ron and Reg show up.

And Eggsy’s been waiting for this moment, the moment when he gets to see Ron again, and they make out dramatically while a hundred-piece orchestra plays a fanfare and - well, okay. Maybe not that far. But he  _ has _ been looking forward to seeing Ron again, even though the bastard didn’t call.

But Ron just stands. And stares. 

Which, yeah, okay, Eggsy’s pissed off.  _ Won’t stop bloody talking about me, eh? _ Eggsy thinks. Talking  _ about _ someone is all well and good, but it don’t mean shit if you aren’t saying nothing to their face. At least a hello, would be nice.

After a few seconds, he says, “You didn’t call me.” He tries to make a joke out of it, not taking himself too seriously. Not taking  _ Ron _ too seriously. Teddy Smith isn’t the kind of guy to worry about things like this. He raises his eyebrows, expecting some sort of answer.

Reg is trying very hard not to pay attention, lighting a cigarette determinedly. 

Nothing. Still, nothing. Ron just keeps staring, his eyes uncovering Eggsy as he stands. Not even in a sexual way, more like he was peeling back Eggsy’s skin and taking a look inside. Eggsy feels goosebumps rising on his arms, hidden by the sleeves of his cheap suit.

Dropping his barely-smoked cigarette and crushing it with the toe of his shoe, Reg snaps the two men out of it. “Alright. You two girls ready to go in, then?” 

“Yeah, Reg,” replies Eggsy, not taking his gaze off Ronnie.

Ron doesn’t say anything.

  
  
  
  


The only people in the pub are two men, sitting at a table with a briefcase by their side. They’re the type of people who, if you saw them in the street, you would instantly forget and never think about again. It’s not that they look  _ similar, _ but there’s just something about them that gives the impression that they’ve never made an interesting decision in their lives. Eggsy finds himself stifling a yawn.

As he sits down next to the Kray twins, Eggsy suddenly realises that he has no idea what he’s signed up for. Reg hadn’t said much, hadn’t even mentioned what the meeting was about -  _ need to know _ , Eggsy assumes. His eyes can’t help but glance at Ron, the most comforting thing in this strange environment.

Ha, that’s a fucking joke. Ronnie Kray, a comfort. Eggsy tries to think about the horror stories Harry had told him about. Like the time Ron bashed in a man’s head with a tire iron. Or the fact that he's spent years in psychiatric facilities. But the memory of Ron’s hands on him is far more visceral, and he can’t help but think that he’s made some sort of mistake.

The sound of a man’s voice drags Eggsy out of his thoughts. It’s one of the blokes they’ve come to meet, the one with the slightly nicer tie but the slightly worse haircut. “I was under the impression that it would just be the two of you,” he says. “This is a business deal. Muscle… isn’t necessary.” 

“Awh, Teddy’s alright, ain’t you, Ted?” says Reg, in the most affectionate voice Eggsy’s ever heard him use. Which isn’t saying much. 

Realising it’s his cue, Eggsy nods his head enthusiastically and tries to look innocent. “Pretty boy”, Reg had called him.  _ You’re dumb and pretty, _ Eggsy thinks to himself. 

Reg glances at him, and there’s a vague hint of approval in his eyes. “He won’t bother us,” Reg continues. 

The two men on the other side of the table eye Eggsy up suspiciously. “I don’t like it, Reg, I don’t like it at all,” The guy with the nice tie says. “Bringing a bodyguard along to a business meeting? Makes me feel like you and your brother don’t trust me and my associate, here. Makes me feel like maybe, I shouldn’t be doing business with ya.”

Eggsy’s examining the men with equal suspicion. Something doesn’t seem quite right about this whole set-up; the empty pub, the missing barman, the nervous tap-tap-tap of one of the men’s feet on the floor. He considers that, maybe, he’s just being over-protective, but he can’t shake the chilling grip of unease that has wrapped its fingers around him.

Eggsy forces himself to stay quiet. He stares at the man who hasn’t spoken yet and takes a sip of the beer in front of him. Daring the man to try something. 

The man looks away, and Eggsy feels a rush of satisfaction. 

“Pete, mate, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Reg smiles, sharp-toothed and false. “We’re good on our word, see. Anyone this side of the Thames’ll tell you that. So let’s just sign what we need to sign, and we can all be on our merry way, eh?”

“Fine, fine,” The man with the nice tie, Pete, gestures to his friend. The friend reaches into the briefcase at his side. 

When Eggsy sees the metallic glint of a gun, hidden deep at the bottom of the briefcase, he doesn’t hesitate. He grabs his half-empty beer glass and chucks it at the man, with such force and accuracy that the man’s chair nearly topples over. The gun clatters to the floor. 

Eggsy barely even thought about it. Identify the target, assess risk, take out the target. Boom. Just what he was trained for.

They should  _ really _ give him a promotion over at Kingsman. 

The air is heavy with a resounding silence. Eggsy can feel his own sharp breaths. In the seat next to him, Ron tightens his grip on the edge of the table. 

Then Pete makes a grab for the gun, his fingers desperately scrabbling on the rough wooden floor, and Ron deals with this issue by bringing his boot up to meet the guy’s face. Hard. Pete staggers to his feet, trying to stop the flow of blood already coursing from his nose. Next to him, his friend is doing his best to remain vertical. 

In this brief moment of reprieve, Reg gets to his feet and walks towards the bar. “You two’ll handle this, yeah?” he asks, and begins drawing another pint. 

Ron just grunts in agreement and punches Pete square in the jaw. Eggsy can’t help but watch, fascinated, as Ron (he’s wearing brass knuckles, when the  _ fuck _ did he put on brass knuckles?) seems to lose any semblance of sanity he appeared to possess before. It’s like something Eggsy’s never seen; Ron has none of the precise composure of the men at Kingsman, none of the ordered moves Eggsy has had drilled into him. 

But it’s not  _ messy, _ it’s nothing like a street fight. Ronnie Kray is something wholly  _ other _ , like he’s sailing away on another planet, and Eggsy finds himself desperately wanting to follow him.

He’s too busy watching Ronnie and his fists and the blood to notice Pete’s friend (Christ, he still doesn’t know his name) aiming a punch right at his face. Eggsy finds himself almost knocked horizontal and he can taste the warm, metallic blood seeping from a split lip, but he can’t help but grin.

At least now he’s got someone to match him, more or less. Now he won’t feel so bad about hammering him into the ground.

Which he does. Not without a struggle, mind - despite all his years of training, Eggsy knows that the side of his face and his stomach will ache tomorrow from the punches the guy managed to land. But before he really has the chance to start getting tired, Eggsy smashes another beer glass over the man’s head, and that's the end of it. 

Eggsy’s breathing hard like he’s just run several marathons, and Ron doesn’t seem to be much better off. Both mens’ faces are bloody, their hair messed up and falling in their eyes.

At the bar, Reggie takes a long swig of his beer and reaches over to use the phone. 

And that’s when Ron grabs Eggsy by the tie and pulls him out the back door of the pub. Without a word, just drags him outside and shoves him up against the hard brick wall. Eggsy barely even feels it, the adrenaline from the fight making every inch of his skin burn. Ron’s looking at him with that same fire burning through his eyes, with that same intensity that makes Eggsy think,  _ bloody hell, I am fucked, _ which maybe isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

“I knew,” Ron murmurs, the first words he’s spoken to Eggsy since the morning Eggsy left his house. “I knew you would look real fuckin’ pretty, all covered in bruises an’ blood.” Eggsy almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation. Ronald Kray pressed up against him in some dark alley, telling him he looks  _ pretty. _

But then Ron cradles Eggsy’s face in his hands, almost  _ tenderly, _ and it’s so unexpected that Eggsy forgets everything he’s ever been taught and he presses his mouth to Ronnie’s. 

It’s like the world has suddenly catapulted in fast-forward. The pavement is apparently moving beneath their feet, Ron is muttering something low and unintelligible against Eggsy’s lips, and Eggsy can barely breathe _. _ There’s just something about Ronnie that warps his usual confidence and swagger, turning a casual kiss into a way for Eggsy to prove himself. He sticks his tongue in Ron’s mouth and tastes another man’s blood. 

“Fuckin’ hell…” The quiet, derisive exclamation pierces through the rush in Eggsy’s ears. It’s Reg, standing at the mouth of the alley, silhouetted against the London street behind him. Eggsy can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed.

“C’mon, Ron. Plenty of shit to do, none of it involving him,” Reg announces, clearly trying his best not to yell. “I’ve called some of the boys, they’ll take care of the mess in there. What we need to do, is get outta here. Besides, you gettin’ arrested for public indecency is somethin’ I really can’t be fuckin’ bothered to deal with today. Let's  _ go. _ ”

Just like that, Ron’s off of him, walking back down the alley to meet Reg, not a care in the world. 

“Oh, and Teddy?” Reg says. “Nice job in there, mate.”

Eggsy just nods wordlessly. He doesn’t think he’ll be capable of a cohesive thought for the next few years or so. 

And with that, they walk off, leaving Eggsy lightheaded in the alley with his tie fucked up and his trousers half-way undone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man … im just writing shit at this point. barely even beta’d. probably ooc. im so tired. 
> 
> please leave a comment and kudos if u enjoyed and if u have any ideas for the rest of this story … i have the next few chapters sort of planned but would appreciate any inspiration from u lot !! 
> 
> follow me on twt if u feel like it @/yeehawkeanu


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